DISPATCHED FROM THE CROSSROADS, AT THE intersection OF rancho susita and
broadway

The two men play sad characters, but — like I sometimes do — I
felt a twinge of envy for their isolated lives in the near-wilderness
of Wyoming, days completely their own (even if they did choose
to spend them feeling depressed and sorry for themselves).

But then I thought, "Hey, wait! That is my life!" Not the hangdog part
but the near-wilderness part, with days to spend as I choose. I
don't have the mountain ridges of Wyoming out my window, but I
do have woods and, behind the strip mall, glacier-etched mini-canyons
and trout streams.

A lovely life.

But I still like an audience. I still have that working woman's lust
for approval.

I worked for countless hours last week on "The
Adventures of Maddie Malone." Brought it to cartoon class last
night. Being way out on Rancho Susita, I had no idea how the teacher
would respond. (My only feedback had been from Jim, who — while a
formidable art connoisseur — does share Rancho Susita with me.)

The teacher's eyes widened when he saw my elaborately pencilled production,
then he started laughing. Laughing! "This is really funny," he
said. I'm not known for my hilarity, but — since he had once
worked in a local psych unit — he appreciated the irony.

He told me it was by far the best work ever submitted to him by "an adult
student." "Adult student" is a kind way of saying "amateur" as
opposed to "real" students in a design-school professional track.
Cool enough. I'll accept the compliment for what it is and for
who I am. You learn to love the life you have lived instead of
all the alternative lives that might have been. Would I trade Rancho
Susita for a dorm room at the local design college? No way. But
I'm basking in my teacher's laugh today.